


Dick Move

by HaleHole (SweetFanfics)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Crack, Gen, Humor, Rumors, everyone wants Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-18
Updated: 2013-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-23 22:00:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/931545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/HaleHole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"There's an interesting rumour floating around about you." </p><p>“What kind of rumour? That I shot a man just to watch him die? Was caught while smuggling drugs across the Mexican border? Possibly a drug dealer?”</p><p>“Hardly. It’s about your dick.”</p><p>
  <i>“What?”</i>
</p><p>A.K.A the one where every girl in Beacon Hills High wants Stiles' D</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dick Move

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this ask Cor sent me   
> 

"There's an interesting rumour floating around about you." Stiles looks up as Lydia leans next to his locker and stares at him. For a moment he wonders how bad this is going to be because when was the last time that Lydia had deigned to stop by his locker and  _talk to him_?

So he waits a moment, hands still buried inside the locker, paused in their search for his Trig book that has mysteriously vanished. “What kind of rumour?” Stiles asks, feeling equal parts of dread and curiosity filling him. “That I shot a man just to watch him die? Was caught while smuggling drugs across the Mexican border? Possibly a drug dealer?”

Lydia rolls her eyes, clearly not amused. “Hardly. It’s about your dick.”

The words make Stiles spazz.  _Hard_. The jerking motion causes a mini-avalanche to fall out of his locker, spilling paper, books and miscellaneous items across the hallway floor. “ _What_?” He yelps, feeling utterly scandalized.

But Lydia is focusing on the papers floating down around her doubtlessly expensive heels. She is clearly unimpressed by how much of a mess Stiles has accumulated inside his locker space, she takes a delicate step back before continuing. “I thought it would be best to get the news straight from the horses mouth.”

Speaking of mouths, his has fallen open. Stiles is certain that his jaw has detached from his skull and tumbled across the way into a dark corner and he’s forever going to have open-mouthed syndrome because seriously,  _what the fuck_? Lydia frowns, pink lips twisting down before she snaps, “Close your mouth already Stiles! You look like an idiot!”

The command makes his mouth snap shut in a second but his eyes still feel like they’re going to bug out of his head. And he may have also swallowed his tongue. Or maybe his vocal chords have run away with his jaw…

"Well?" Lydia asks, tapping the toe of her heels impatiently against the floor. "Is it true or not?"

"I don’t even know what you’re talking about!" Stiles finally replies, a little too loudly and with a little too much enthusiasm as he almost decks a freshman in the face with his hand. " _What_ rumour?”

The red head tips her head to the side, a considering look in her eyes. “You haven’t heard?” But before Stiles can reply, she sighs as though she’s the one being put out by the whole mess. “Of course you haven’t.” What is  _that_ supposed to imply?

Stiles suddenly gets the feeling that this is going to be a train wreck of a conversation. He can see the two trains coming and they’re going to have a head-on collision. And he can’t do a damned thing to stop it. 

"There’s this rumour floating around that sleeping with you helps cure cancer or any illness. It kind of varies. Depends on who you ask." Lydia waves a dismissive hand, as though the very idea is ludicrous. Which it kinda is and Stiles isn’t just talking about it from the medical and scientific perspective because  _what_?

But Lydia is unaware of the manner in which Stiles brain is imploding on itself and checks her nails, frowning slightly at the left index finger. “I’m not sure where it started from. I think it’s from the other high school across town. So I really doubt that it’s true.”

Stiles can only gape at Lydia and wonder why the hell this is his life.

And what the hell is that thundering noise anyways?

—

It’s 2 in the afternoon and Derek’s got his nose in a book when his cellphone starts to belt ‘Pretty Fly For A White Guy’ at top volumes. Dropping the tome next to him, Derek leans forward to grab the vibrating phone and eyes the name on the screen. He needs to find a permanent way to stop Stiles from changing his ringtones. Hitting 'Accept', Derek says, “Stiles.”

What he hears on the other end of the phone is laboured breathing and a whole lot of yelling. Besides Stiles’ yelling, “Derek! I need your help!” that is. All together, it makes Derek cringe and pull the phone away from his ear.

Tentatively, he brings it back close to his ear before he asks, “Help with what?”

"You wouldn’t believe me if I told you!" Stiles yells, making an odd yelping noise that gets hidden underneath a cacophony of metal objects crashing together. "Just get to the school as fast as you can! My life depends on it! And my- _oh shit!_ ”

Derek listens to the beeping dial tone that signals that the call has been dropped for a few seconds before getting up to his feet. He’s in his car and screeching out of the parking lot in minutes, imagining all kinds of scenarios.

Maybe a rogue omega thought that it was a good idea to go after one of the human members of a pack. Maybe hunters were chasing Stiles thinking that he was a sympathizer. Maybe it was one of the dozens of creatures that simply killed for the pleasure of it.

As his fantasies became more elaborate, more  _terrible_ , Derek realizes that he’s well over the speed limit and can’t give a shit. He pushes his foot down more on the gas, fingers tightening on the steering wheel as he prays that he’s not too late.

He pulls into the school parking lot, not bothering to turn the engine off before he steps out and looks around. It looks like the end of any other school day. Although… is it just his imagination or there’s a lot more guys outside than girls?

Derek frowns, digging into his pocket for his cellphone before realizing that he’s left it back home. He’s ready to curse his own stupidity when the sound of distant thunder reaches his ears. Confused, he stares up at the clear blue sky and mumbles, “The Hell?”

The thundering noise only grows louder, making his hackles rise and several people look up at the sky with confusion. The main doors fly open, making Derek whip around with a snarl on his lips. He catches sight of Stiles jumping down the stairs, yelling apologies at whoever he bumps into before screaming at them to run away.

Derek looks behind the teenager, ready for whatever is chasing Stiles.

And is immediately bewildered.

Because it looks like the entire female student body is chasing Stiles out of the school. That explains all the yelling.

He stares in confusion, wondering what the Hell is going on when Stiles catches sight of him and runs to him yelling, “In the car! In the car! Move it, move it,  _move it!_ ”

Derek climbs back in, leaning across the passenger seat to throw the door open for Stiles. The teenager slides in, all elbows and knees as he exclaims, “Drive already!”

Not needing to be told twice, Derek slams his foot down on the accelerator and drives them away from the school. His eyes keep darting between the rear view mirror and the road, watching the large group of pouting girls grow smaller and smaller. “Thanks man!” Stiles wheezes, hands digging around in his backpack before he pulls out an inhaler and takes a hit. “You saved my ass back there.”

"From what exactly?" Derek asks warily, wondering if he’s going to have to go to Deaton and ask him if there’s anything supernatural that causes girls to chase after one guy.

When Stiles fails to answer, Derek glances over at him and raises an eyebrow at the sight the teenager is making with the inhaler still in his mouth and a flush on his cheeks. “Can I plead the fifth?” Stiles asks weakly around the plastic.

"Stiles." Derek warns, frowning heavily as he does so. 

The teenager sighs, slumping in his seat as his flush darkens. “You’re going to make fun of me.” He grumbles to the dashboard, hands reaching out to fiddle with the radio. Derek slaps his hands away and gives Stiles a more pointed glare. Stiles throws his hands up, smacking them into the ceiling. “Fine, fine! You saved me from being debauched by almost every girl in the school! Happy?”

Derek is really proud of himself that he doesn't stop the car and reach over to smack Stiles’ in the back of the head for his jokes. “Stiles!” He barks, unamused to the extreme. “This is no time to be making jokes!”

"I’m not joking!" Stiles retorts, voice high and panicked. "They were  _literally_ going to use me for my dick!” His hands flutter about him, making aborted gestures and sliding through his hair as he babbles. “Someone started this crazy rumour that sleeping with me helps cure whatever disease they had or something and the next thing I know, my life’s an AXE commercial!”

Considering the panicked and half crazed look in Stiles’ eyes, Derek is inclined to believe him. Even if it sounds so fucking juvenile. Still, he needs a moment to process this. He pulls over to the side of the road, coming to a complete stop before he turns towards Stiles and asks, “What you’re telling me is that your emergency was that you were being chased by a large group of girls?”

"Who were going to use me for my body." Stiles completes in an utterly morose tone, fingers tugging on the hem of his t-shirt. "They even tore off my shirt. That was my favourite plaid shirt!"

It’s probably dickish of him but Derek feels amusement begin to bubble in the pit of his stomach. He’s fighting to keep the grin off his face when he asks, “Which one was it?”

"The one with yellow, blue and green stripes." Stiles sighs, suddenly groaning as he covers his face with his hands and moans. "I’m going to  _kill_ whoever started that rumour!”

Derek knows that he’s not a nice person because he just  _has_ to tease Stiles. “So it’s not true then?” He tries to give Stiles a mildly curious but over all innocent look, as though he’s taking the matter seriously.

"You’re a terrible person." Stiles hisses, eyes narrowed as he throws himself back into the seat. Derek finally gives in and lets out a quiet chuckle that he hides behind his hand. "I hope you get two flat tires in the rain!" That only makes him laugh harder, much to Stiles’ chagrin.


End file.
